Victory Beard
by ColossusProblematic
Summary: Shepard vows not to shave his beard until the Reapers are defeated. But some beards are too powerful for any one man to wield, as his crew discovers to their horror.


**Author's note:**

Been having trouble focusing lately. Seems like nothing I write comes out the way I want it to. So I said 'screw it, I'll just write the first thing that come to mind and publish it, no matter how ridiculous or bad. Won't even edit it.'

So, after being presented with the baseball postseason and recalling Giants' closer Brian Wilson's epic playoff beard, I thought 'How would ME3 have turned out if Shepard had grown an epic victory beard?'

Probably not like this, actually. But what the hell.

*Edit* All right, I edited it. The first line got chopped out and a couple little additions came to mind when I was proofreading it.

* * *

**Present**

"Really, Shepard, this is getting ridiculous. Remember what Aria said about how anyone could be wearing your face? Well, it could be anyone under that... thing."

Miranda shifted uncomfortably under Shepard's piercing blue-eyed stare. In the past year, he'd gone from looking simply threatening to utterly ferocious, like a wild man who'd grown accustomed to eating human flesh. His eyes looked crazed and murderous. Hell, when Kasumi had first caught sight of him after the Reapers had invaded, she'd shrieked and turned to run but had slammed face first into the closing door inside the Spectre Requisitions Office. And she'd heard the stories about Tali. They made her shiver. But the chill that ran down her spine at the movement of Shepard's lips made her want to scream. She couldn't be sure if he'd opened his mouth to speak, or if he was licking his lips and contemplating taking a bite of her flesh.

The beard, in its wild growth of heart-stopping and otherworldly malice, concealed all.

* * *

**One year earlier, Lazarus Station**

"You do good work, Miranda," Jacob said while he nodded his head and gazed down at the sleeping Commander Shepard. The man looked as he did in the images and vids from two years ago, with the exception of the faintly glowing scars on his cheeks and the thick stubble that Shepard had usually kept trimmed down to a long five o'clock shadow.

"I know. But I appreciate the compliment." Miranda smiled and peered intently down at the focus of the last two years of her life while she ran a fingertip over his cheek. "He could use a shave. Can you get me a razor?"

A chill seemed to sweep through the room when she spoke the last word, and they both could have sworn the lights dimmed for a moment. Exchanging uneasy glances, Miranda and Jacob took a step back from the patient and swallowed.

"On second thought, let's get something to eat."

* * *

**Present**

Though they were standing out in the middle of the mess hall, no one had passed by in the past few minutes, an unusual occurrence. It was, after all, midday, and people had been drinking and feasting almost nonstop since the Reapers had died three days earlier. Miranda was a brave, strong woman, who'd never succumbed to fear, but when Shepard took a step toward her, she shrieked and quickstepped backward, but she promptly fell on her ass. The struggle didn't stop there while her legs kicked and her arms thrashed to find a purchase on the smooth metal deck, but Shepard was keeping pace with her easily, staring down at her over the terrifying forest of black beard that seemed to be tugging at her tasty soul.

"No! Please, I didn't mean anything by it!" Miranda's voice was a squeak while tears flowed down her cheeks. She felt her back hit the bulkhead by what had once been her office, and she closed her eyes, whimpering. This was the end.

A minute later, she opened her eyes slowly, but instead of an endless sea of black consuming her essence, she saw a very confused asari gazing down at her. "Miranda? What's wrong? How much did you have to drink?"

Liara extended a hand, but Miranda could only hug herself tightly while she whispered to herself and rocked back and forth slowly. "The beard... the beard..."

Shepard scratched idly at his chin while he made his way through the CIC. Miranda was right; this was getting ridiculous. It was just a damn beard. Sure, it was rather long and thick, and it made him look like a cross between a werewolf and a Civil War general, but it was his victory beard, damnit. He swore he wouldn't shave until the Reapers were defeated. All right, sure, they were all dead now, but he'd kinda grown to like it. The various comments his old friends had made upon seeing him again were hilarious, but now it was as if everyone expected him to sprout Reaper tentacles and consume their brains whenever he gave them a look. And yeah, he didn't talk much these days, but that was because people nearly started screaming whenever he opened his mouth. Something about the way the beard moved. He'd stopped paying attention. They obeyed; that was good enough. And he was rather proud of his victory beard.

Of course, it had been rough on his sex life.

* * *

**Two months ago, Normandy war room**

"Um...oh. Yes, our newest admiral has also volunteered her technical expertise." Shala'Raan turned swiftly, as if she was relieved to be looking away, and gestured over Shepard's shoulder. Before he turned, his heart skipped a beat at the simple sound of two accented syllables.

"Shepard."

"Tali?" He turned and smiled when he saw the familiar black and lavender suit and the purple visor that concealed the face of the woman he loved, but her body went rigid and an ear-splitting shriek made every human and quarian in the war room cover their ears.

"KEELAH, IT GOT BIGGER!"

Tali fainted. And Shala found herself shivering and praying to the ancestors where she and the other admirals crouched and shivered in terror behind the war room console. They weren't safe there, though, she knew. Nowhere was safe. Not from the beard.

* * *

**Present**

He hadn't understood it. Tali had admitted to preferring him with shorter hair when they'd begun their relationship during the Collector campaign, but she'd grown accustomed to the beard. Of course, it hadn't been nearly so long back then. Six months of lockdown followed by another month and a half of stressful campaigning was a long time for it to grow. Still, though. It was _his_ beard. It's not like he'd turned into a Reaper. Not that you'd know it from Garrus' or Liara's reactions. At least Joker hadn't come close to pissing himself, unlike others. He grinned at a memory while he stepped off the elevator and entered his (empty) quarters.

* * *

**Three months ago, Citadel Council chambers**

"The reports are accurate. Earth was attacked... by the Reapers."

Liara blanched at Shepard's approach. Once, she would have concealed a smile and reached out to touch him, but she'd blown her chance when he showed up at her office on Illium and she'd been more interested in getting terminals hacked than having her clothing torn off. He'd consoled himself with the thought that she'd just been terrified of the glory of his beard. Tali had proven her mettle, fortunately. A real game day player, that one. Unlike the councilors. He'd walked in fully expecting to call them idiots or make another remark about genocide. But their reactions were interesting. All four were staring at him. Sparatus' mandibles were twitching uncontrollably. Valern's eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of his skull. Udina was trembling and his knees were shaking. And Tevos... hmm. Interesting. She was licking her lips. Apparently Thessia's foremost diplomat concealed a kinky side. Alas, she didn't have the waist to hip ratio he demanded. A shame. The beard was eternal, and would no doubt appreciate some embracing.

* * *

**Present**

It had been the first time the council hadn't been a group of obstructionist bastards. Good thing, too, because the Crucible had been a cast-iron bitch to put together, according to Hackett. Fortunately, the man wielded a beard powerful enough to mobilize an army of a construction crew into action after Shepard had threatened the council with death if they didn't send everything they could spare to the old man. (He'd had to promise Tevos a drink the next time he was on the Citadel, but Tali would understand.) Udina, ever the slimy bastard, had hemmed and hawed and stammered his excuses, but one stroke of the luxurious black beard had made the man deposit a disgusting yellow puddle on the deck beneath the councilor's feet. Tevos, well, her eyes had gone black and she'd quickly excused herself. Better not to know where, really, though he'd suddenly found himself eager to go in search of the Migrant Fleet to see Tali's reaction.

Yeah, that hadn't gone how he'd hoped. Shepard sighed and stared at the side of the bed Tali used to sleep on for a minute before he tapped on his omni-tool. Two minutes later, the cabin door opened to admit Wrex and Joker, who made their way toward his couch as they had so many times before.

"Shepard.

"Wrex."

"Shepard."

"Joker."

"So, Shepard. Not long now. I think you'll be pleased." Wrex gave his old friend a toothy grin and pulled a large can of beer from under the table, popping the lid while Joker found a more human-sized bottle.

"Yeah, I guess." Shepard sat despondently on a chair and rubbed his face (well, beard) with his palms. Wrex and Joker exchanged a curious gaze before the pilot spoke.

"What's wrong, Shepard? You're acting like we're heading back to the Citadel for a diplomatic conference instead of the dedication of a statue. To you. You know, Commander Shepard, the guy who beat the Reapers and who could have any woman in the galaxy? Hell, any _harem_ in the galaxy!"

Wrex chortled and Joker grinned, but Shepard fixed them with a glare and their smiles instantly vanished, replaced by expressions of abject terror. Hackett had once said that his beard was too powerful for any one man to wield, but he'd been forced to retract that statement when Harbinger had been too stunned to fire on the commander or the vulnerable Normandy while Garrus evacuated a wounded Tali. That staring contest had lasted long enough for Joker to put a Thanix shot right through one glowing yellow eye. It would have been a good memory... except Shepard wasn't sure if Tali was relieved to be getting medical attention... or to be getting away from the beard. A depressing thought. Did any woman who couldn't handle his facial hair deserve him? Or was it simply too much for any sane woman?

After a long moment, Shepard sighed, and the tension drained from Wrex and Joker's faces. "All right, I need some advice."

* * *

**The next morning**

_"All crew, report to the CIC. The presentation will begin in thirty minutes on the Presidium. Prepare to depart."_

The crew gathered around the galaxy map, waiting for Shepard to emerge from the elevator and lead them off. Tali shuffled her feet and wriggled her fingers nervously at her waist. Six weeks. Six damned weeks of sleeping in one of those damned cramped pods in her suit instead of under sheets sharing sweaty body heat with her boyfriend. All because of that damned-

They all turned and collectively stiffened when the elevator doors opened, but the wide-eyed stares were not those of fear when Shepard stepped out, gazing around the crowd for a long moment while the doors hissed shut behind him. Human, asari, quarian, krogan, turian, salarian eyes all just... stared, for a full minute before the commander frowned.

"...What?"

"It's gone! It's gone!" Tali squealed exuberantly, bouncing on her toes before she sprinted over and leaped at her boyfriend, tossing her visor aside on the way. He fell to the deck, pounced by sixty kilos of excited quarian who was kissing him frantically and grabbing his stubbled cheeks with gloved hands.

_Well. Okay. Maybe it was worth it._ Shepard grinned and kissed back, silently thanking the geth that volunteered to upload into her suit. Wrex chuckled and shooed everyone toward the airlock while collective sighs of relief and laughter filled the deck.

* * *

**An hour later**

The crew arrived thirty minutes late, thanks to Shepard and Tali taking their sweet time doing... well, most of them didn't want to think about it. But without that evil, soul-devouring beard on his face, their commander's contented grin when he emerged from the airlock didn't send anyone fleeing to the sound of screams. And Tali had to lean on him while she walked with rubbery legs, giggling constantly underneath her breath while they made their way toward the Citadel Tower. Before, the citizens that had lined up to catch a glimpse of the heroes had ended up burying their faces in their hands or backing away slowly, but now, they cheered and pushed against the C-Sec officers that formed a barricade.

"What a difference a shave makes," Tali commented slyly beside him, nudging his hip with hers as they all approached the shrouded statue in front of the Council Tower. Judging by the black cloth that hung from it, it stood even taller than the krogan monument a hundred meters away down the lake. Wrex had been instrumental in its construction, pushing the approval through the council and getting krogan artisans to come out of the closet in order to utilize their hidden skills. Geth platforms had joined them, and in only a few short days the job was done. The council had apparently thought better of objecting, and Tevos had been, well, enthusiastic in her support. Now, as they all gathered around the concealed monument and Valern blathered on about the usual honors, Shepard concealed a little grin and glanced over to Wrex and Joker, who were doing the same thing.

Finally, the time came, and the councilors took hold of the ropes, pulling the shroud from the statue, revealing the mighty form of Shepard in his armor, striking a heroic pose.

"SPIRITS!" Garrus gasped.

"KEELAH!" Tali squealed.

"Oh my God," Ashley breathed.

"Goddess!" Liara and Samara exclaimed in unison.

The crowd of nearly a hundred thousand gasped and screamed in unison at the sight of the huge black beard glued to the platinum statue, turning to flee along with the crew in a stampede that gave rise to utter chaos.

Shepard remained behind with folded arms, grinning evilly to himself while he stared up at the magnificent sight, the horrific sounds that filled the Presidium going unnoticed. Maybe Hackett was right; it _was_ too powerful for any one man to wield. But perhaps a statue was another matter entirely.


End file.
